


Make Me Cry

by Strawberry_Sweetheart



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy is a service top, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hi would you like some angst with your porn?, M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, billy Hargrove is a soft boy, bratty Steve Harrington, no?, steve is a brat, too bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 23:04:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20478941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_Sweetheart/pseuds/Strawberry_Sweetheart
Summary: I want you to make me cry.Steve buries everything inside and has a hard time crying. Billy tries to help him let it all out.It’s all trial and error until he gets it right.





	Make Me Cry

**Author's Note:**

> You ever really needed to cry but you just couldn’t nt seem to be able to...
> 
> I have a tumblr @billy-baby that’s strictly a harringrove blog, you can send me prompt suggestions there.

Billy has never seen Steve cry. He’s talked about it with him, before when they were something just between roommates and friends, talking over a few bottles of beers and a joint.

_It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t. I feel so much and sometimes I think I’m finally going to burst, but I never get there. There are times when it all feels too much and too close under my skin and I get irritated as shit, you know? Like all the stress is building up pressure in my head and I need to let it out._

Billy has never really had that problem, not when it comes to crying. There was a time when he would get angry. Uncontrollably so. Feel like if he doesn’t find something to let his anger out that his blood will boil over and nothing can fix it until his knuckles feel warm and freshly bruised. But he’s never had trouble crying. He didn’t do it in front of others of course, but alone in his room away from ridicule. There were times when tears would spill after an argument with his dad that had nothing to do with his red cheek and bruised ribs. Those times were the worst, when they made it clear that his dad had won. His dads trophy.

There were times when Steve has come close.

When Billy had him laid out on the couch, study notes scattered and forgotten on the coffee table and Steve’s clothes laid in a mess pile on the ground. Billy had him swallowed down to the root, his nose buried in the coarse dark hair there, throat muscles flexing around his pretty boy’s cock. Two slick fingers were sunken deep to the knuckles, rubbing and abusing his prostate, feeling Steve’s thigh muscles twitch and shake, his back arching off the cushions with loud his moans.

_Billy. Baby. Please..._

_Come on, pretty boy. Just one more, I promise. Can you give me one more?_

Steve shook his head from side to side, far too over sensitive from coming two previous times before, having Billy take in his soften cock and suckled on it until he harden again for him. His moans grew louder and more desperate. Billy let go of his length with a wet pop so he could see his gorgeous boy unravel under him. He came dry with a choked sob and wide eyes filled to the brim with tears but stubbornly refusing to fall.

Close but no dice.

***  
_I want you to make me cry._ Steve has said once. He had noticed how frustrated Steve had been, set off by tiny things like Billy’s boots laying in the middle of the hallway or when the the mugs were in the wrong place in the cupboard. His cheeks would flush in anger and his nose would scrunch up as he pestered Billy here and there about the smallest things, sometimes unconsciously stomping his foot on the ground like a toddler. Tiny little tantrums.

One such particular tantrum was the result of the lack of milk in the fridge. Billy had forgotten to get a gallon when it was his turn to do the shopping. _It’s fine, pretty boy, I’ll go to the store right now if you want,_ apparently didn’t cut it. He had stomping his foot at Billy talking on and on about he always forgets something when he does the shopping and Billy saw his point because it was true, but it had never bothered Steve before, didn’t even show up on his radar.

_Tell me what’s really bothering you, Steve. I know it’s not about shoes or milk. Talk to me._

_I want you to make me cry... I need you to. I need it... _

He had grabbed his wrist and led him to the couch, spreading him out over his lap, pulling of his basketball shorts to expose pale soft flesh to rough calloused hands.

_This alright, sweetheart? You want me to make you cry._

Steve has nodded and buried his face into the cushion, arching his back slightly and lifting his hips to give Billy more access. Billy rubbed the flesh, slipping his fingers between Steve’s cheeks to tease and rub at his hole, enjoying the way it clenched at the pressure.

_Use your colors, honey._

_Green._

The first slap had came down hard, a sharp thing that ripped through Steve and shook a yell loose from his lungs. He had only a enough time to relax before the next hit on the opposite cheek, knowing that the sting would hurt more if he tensed. Billy’s hand came down hard and brutal, the skin of the affected area becoming a deep red and radiating heat.

_You need to learn to ask for what you need, baby. _ Another strike and Steve whimpered, turning his face to the side and sucking in jagged breaths that made his torso tremble. _I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need. You know that right, sweetheart? There’s no need to be a brat when I know you love being so good for me, always so good. Give me a color, honey._ He took the time to caress the mounds and squeeze, running his hand to the small of Steve’s back and kneading his thumbs in his back dimples.

_Green._

_Such a good boy,_ he cooed, _my good pretty boy._

Billy wasn’t counting but by the time he was done, Steve’s bottom was red and well abused. He was whimpering on his lap, fingers digging into the cushion, breathing uneven. He gathered him up to his chest, hands soothing and softly rubbing away the hurt, and he looked down at him, curled up in a way that made the tall boy appear small. His sobs racked his body, wet and violent, brown eyes were locked into his own, but his cheeks were void from tear stains.

_I’m sorry, baby._

_It’s okay. You tired._

Steve has slept with his face tucked in his neck, hiding in his blond curls.

Billy didn’t think it was okay.

***

It was cold when Billy got off of work, an early chill that wasn’t expected so early in September. The apartment was as cold as it was outside, adamantly sucking Billy’s warmth the moment he walked in. There had been no one around to turn on the heater, both Steve and Billy had went to work early in the morning today, and Steve has yet an hour to go before his shift ended.

77\. Billy had shifted the thermostat to 77. A compromise. Steve hates when the appartment feels too stuffy from the heater and Billy’s Californian blood has yet to adapt to anything below 75.

He shed layers as he walked to their bedroom, dumping the jacket and sweater on the bean bag chair Steve had insisted they absolutely needed and yet never seemed to use. He thought about Steve and his large Bambi eyes as he toes off his boots, too sore to bend down down to properly untie them. He thought about how he complained about his manager getting on his ass, waiting forgot to make tiny mistakes just to lecture him. _He’s worse than my dad._ Steve had told him late one night when they were entangled together, limbs heavy with sleep but eyes wide awake and looking at only one another. He thought about all the times Steve had been close to crying, how he shakes in anticipation, wanting to the dam to break, wanting to fall apart so he can piece himself back anew.

Both times Billy had been rough with him, trying to fuck him to the edge, get him to spill from pain. But what if...

What if he needed to be gentle.

Steve had always loved soft things. He had told him so. He had noticed. His clothing were the softest Billy has ever felt, expensive too, but Steve had been too used to the feeling of quality fabrics on his sensitive skin so it had become the only thing he splurged on. He loved Billy’s voice when it was low and sweet, loved to be cooed at and assured of how good he was for him. He loved the smell of warm pie and baked goods, buying an abundance of candles that reminded him of it. Steve loves soft things. Loved when Billy was gentle. Loved when he felt safe.

Maybe all Steve was waiting for was to feel safe enough to cry.

So that’s what Billy will do.

***

"Billy? Baby?"

Billy heard Steve call from the doorway, hearing him drop his keys on the kitchen counter. He had put a little effort in cleaning up apartment a bit, knowing Steve felt stressed when things were messy. He crept up behind him, bare feet silent on the carpet, encircling him in his arms nipping at his throat, soaking in Steve’s scent of vanilla and coconut.

"Come to the bed, sweetheart?" Steve hummed his agreement and let the arm around his waist guide him down the hall. Their room smelled good. Like the cafe down Main where they baked their pasteries fresh every morning and Steve inhaled deeply everytime he passed by on his walk to work. Like cinnamon and gingerbread and coffee. There were candles burning on the desk, his as far as Steve could tell, filling the dim room with flickering light besides the single lamp on the night stand that bathed the rest in a pleasant orange hue.

Billy pushed Steve down to sit on the edge of the bed and kneeled to start unlacing his shoes. He looked down at him with a small amused but curious smile.

"I could’ve done that on my own you know."

"Debatable. You always double knot your laces and then struggle undo them. Don’t think I haven’t noticed," Billy huffed, "Besides, I want to take care of you tonight. Let me?" He gripped Steve ankle, rubbing soft cicles on his joint as he slipped off his shoes and socks on by one. Steve flexed and curled his toes, enjoying the new found freedom, and yelped slightly when Billy’s hands popped the button on his jeans and yanked down on the waistline, unapologetically laughing when he fell backwards on the the bed but managing to slip the pants off completely from his long legs.

"You’re not even gonna invite me to dinner first? I’m a classy fella, I like to be wined and dined."

"I made you breakfast this morning. That counts, princess." He ran his hands under his polo and up his sides, bundling the fabric together to uncover the planes of his chest, playful fingers tickling over sensitive skin, enjoying the resulting laugher. His laugh is the never ending song that plays in Billy’s head. He could never tire of it.

"Don’t be an ass."

"You love my ass, pretty boy."

Fingers teased at pink nipples, softly rubbing and pulling until they harden beneath his finger tips, responding so beautifully under his attention. A light dusting of pink was appearing on his pretty boy cheeks and traveling ever further down his neck. Perfectly plumb lips were parted and panting, a pink tongue occasionally pushing past to wet them. His hair surrounded his head in a halo. _Pretty boy._ All his.

"Sit up, pretty boy," he kissed chastely over those lips.

Steve whines but followed the order. Lifting his arms in the air when Billy slipped his shirt off. His slowly hardening cock straining in his briefs. That won’t do. They’ll have to go to. Steve went so easily with Billy’s ministrations, lifting his hips to allow him to slip the last article of clothing off of him. Billy thanks him with a deep kiss, licking at Steve’s mouth and holding him in place with a hand cradling the back of his neck. It leaves Steve moaning in lament when they part.

"Let’s go take a bath, Princess." Billy wears the look of a mischievous imp and Steve is left with his brain rebooting to catch up.

"What?" He’s cut off when he’s lifted in Billy’s arms, arms automatically wrapping around Billy’s neck for stability.

The bathroom has an already filled tub filled with bubbles and emitting the scent of Steve favorite vanilla and coconut bath bombs. Pajamas, his favorite satin blue ones, sit neatly folded on the sink, awaiting use. Billy is staring at Steve’s awe stricken face that quickly morphs into suspicion when he meets his eyes.

"Is this your way of telling me you forgot to buy milk again?"

"What, a guy can’t just treat his boyfriend right?"

"It’s usually under the pressure of their own crippling guilt. Did you eat my left overs?"

Steve shakes in his arms from the force of Billy’s laugh.

"No pretty boy. I told you. I wanna take care of you."

He lowers him into the warm bath, Steve looks gleeful with a wide carefree smile. He’s missed that look on him, didn’t realize until now how absent it’s been. Billy strips out of his sweatpants and slides behind Steve with legs on either side of him, pressing him close to his chest and encourages Steve to lean back on him by kissing down his neck. Steve melts against him, humming contently.

"I love you, Stevie."

"I love you more, baby."

"Impossible." Billy nips at his ear, his hand runs down Steve chest and abdomen to grip at his soften cock, palms it slightly to get it to harden for him again. Steve tried to spread his legs more but the tub leaves little room to do so.

"I’m gonna talk and I want you just to listen, okay."

"A bit — ah — too much to ask from me, don’t y-you think," he let’s out a breathless laugh, "but I’ll try, just for you."

"I feel so special." His hand works him from the base to the head in a firm grip, twisting and milking drops of precome from the tip that’s lost under the bubbles.

"You’ve been thinking too much lately, getting lost in that head of yours. And I miss your little easy going laughs, sweetheart. You feel so lost to me in your work and and classes and I just wanted to bring you back to me. You’re so far away sometimes I don’t even know if you see _you_ anymore. So far and I can’t reach you where you are. You only see the amount on the bills and cut hours from your schedule..."

His other hand reaches to caress the lines of his jaw, tilting his head so he can look at those pretty doe eyes.

"Do you even notice how you don’t danced to Abba in mornings anymore? You used to love sliding around in your socks, had to yell at you a couple of times when you bruised your legs from falling. I miss your loud laughs when we would stay up at night, talking about everything and anything and nothing at all. Used to laugh so loud, loud enough to get the neighbor to bang on the wall just to shut us up, baby. Do you remember?"

His hand left his cock to travel further south and circle the ring of muscle there with his fingers. Steve whines and keens, tightly shutting his eyes to avoid looking him.

"Billy—"

"I’m losing you, baby, I’m losing you and I don’t know what to do to get you back and I’m holding on so tight, sweetheart, so tightly but, you’re still slipping through my fingers. You walk around dazed like you you’re living your life in your head and not in the moment, not like you used to. You always wore this soft smile like you were happy, like nothing made you happier than just _being_, walking on air and humming without even realizing that you were doing it — you were the only person I knew, besides the characters in books and movies, who actually hummed when when feeling happy."

He let his finger sink into Steve, slowly nudging inside. He opens up so easily as he sinks deeper and deeper, wanting to crawl inside him, enveloped by his warmth, a reminder that Steve’s there, right there with him and not anywhere else. Billy feels tears, silent, gracefully sliding down his cheeks. Billy hides his face in Steve’s hairs, brings down his other hand to stroke Steve’s neglect erection.

"_Billy._ I’m sorry-"

"This isn’t about sorrys, sweetheart. You have nothing to be sorry about. I just want you to see yourself again, to feel like yourself again. You keep everything bottled up inside, baby, and I don’t know how you do it because you _feel so much_, got the biggest heart I’ve ever known. And I know you must be tired — you must be — keeping all of that in and letting it eat you from the inside. I don’t want it eating away at your light, sweetheart."

Steve buries his face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, muttering soft _please_s into his skin. Billy sinks two fingers, stretching and searching and finding that spot that makes Steve jerk hard enough to send water over the brim of the tub, spilling out uncontrollably.

"I don’t know why you think you have to keep it in, baby. It’s just you and me and no one else to see. Just you and me. Look at me, baby." Steve lifts his head and stares at his red irritated eyes and tear stained cheeks. Steve’s own full of everything he keeps inside, nearing dangerously close to the brim with a threat to spill over.

"I love you, pretty boy, but you need to let go. Let it all go, you’re safe here, I’ll keep you together I promise, alright. I promise. Keeping this inside, it’s making you lose yourself and I don’t want to lose you ever, baby. I miss you. I miss you so much. I love you, please, let go, sweetheart."

He comes with a choked sob and full body shudder. Clings to the edge of the tub until his knuckles are white. Steve hides again, against Billy’s neck, and it’s quiet for a moment, still as the bath water, until it’s not.

Until there are quiet choked back sobs that makes Steve’s chest jerk. They become louder and wetter and messy and Billy is crying with him too now, quieter, clinging to Steve as he clings to him. It’s not pretty or graceful or the picture of a movie. His face is scrunched up tightly, spotted with red from the force of his wailing. His nose is running but he can’t seem to care. Droplets catch on his eyelashes as the spill, finally over the brim, a broken dam, and Billy holds him together just as he promised.

It takes a long time for Steve to quiet down, the water has gone cold and the bubbles have slowly dispersed, but his body is finally still and loose and at peace with the fatigue in his over-worked lungs.

"Can we stay here? For just a little while longer?" His voice is deep and hoarse. Nothing like Billy has ever heard it before.

"For as long as you need, pretty boy, I’ll stay for as long as you want me. I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smut pls be gentle in the comments


End file.
